2. YOU MIGHT BE A DRAGON

“James, I have my suspicions you might be a dragon.”

Cynthia navigated the city highway interchanges, leaving the passing lane and engaging the cruise control now that we were on the long, straight, flat section of the road. She continued clenching the steering wheel like it owed her money, clearly apprehensive over my reaction to her suggestion. I supposed that was the starting point, and she was now open to my questions. She had given me some time to think about what I wanted to ask but had thrown a wrench in my plans with that announcement.

I furrowed my brow as I responded to her, “But what does that mean? I’m clearly not a giant, flying, fire-breathing lizard. Wouldn’t exactly need your car for this trip if I was.”

“I suspect that something has prevented you from fully merging with your dragon’s soul. There is a beast inside you — I think you met them last night — that is just as much you as this human body and mind are. In a normal situation, you would’ve always been aware of it, and by the time you reached adulthood, you would’ve grown used to them being there — it would be as much a part of you as your legs are now.”

Outside of my circumstances, that idea made sense — if I had grown up with it always being there, I wouldn’t have found it weird to have a second thought process running all the time. “I did notice that when it, for lack of better words, went to sleep...” I paused, unsure of how to accurately describe what I had experienced. “I felt alone. Like when you get home at the end of the day, take your shoes off, and realize you had grown used to them being there, but now your feet feel so exposed.”

“Really? That's awfully fast to grow so acquainted. Usually takes months. Then again, your answers to my panel of questions were exceptionally detailed and intricate. Usually, new awakenings can give some vague approximation of a single emotion, but you were able to get individual thoughts and reasonings. Maybe he’s been below the surface, merging with you for a while but just remaining out of sight. Perhaps he's been growing the entire time but couldn't interact with you before yesterday.”

Her surprise at something unusual was, unfortunately, meaningless to me because everything here was abnormal at best, unbelievable and incomprehensible at worst, so I ignored her remarks. I didn’t have any frame of reference for what she was saying — I didn’t think she was just leading me on or flattering me for the sake of it, but it’s not like I could completely disregard that possibility.

“Cynthia, why are we going to Philadelphia?”

She sighed audibly, and her words carried some resentment. “Bureaucracy. We need to get you registered and establish your mythic id, and oh, I just hope you love paperwork that you sign with your blood.”

That seemed off to me. If I had legal documents to sign in the past, there was a local courthouse for the township or a branch of the DMV pretty close by. Unless it was a federal or international issue, I probably wouldn’t have to cross a county border. If there were enough magically inclined individuals for there to be a government and paperwork to fill out, surely there was a closer place. Sam clenching her jaw to stop herself from saying something also suggested that Cynthia wasn't being entirely truthful.

“Why Philadelphia, then? Seems awfully far just to cross some ts on official documents and get a photo id made.”

Cynthia took a deep breath as if mentally preparing an answer she wished she didn’t have to give.

“I don’t want to mislead you, James. I want to answer anything you ask, but there are things I’m also not supposed to tell you. I bet you’ll figure them out anyways — Sam always said you were pretty quick.” Sam blushed nicely at her mother’s outing that I had been a conversation topic and tried to push herself into the seat, away from the gap in the center.

Cynthia smiled at her daughter's embarrassment, saying, “We’re going to Philadelphia because of what you are. We have two significant reasons to bring you to the regional Seat of Power — think of that as a state capital. Our lines don’t exactly align with what you know. Mythics tend to live a long time — norms redraw the lines a dozen times a century, and we don’t bother keeping up with every change. Philadelphia was the most important city on the east coast once, and that was where the Seat was established.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. So, what are those two reasons?”

“The first is quite simple. If you are a dragon — I’m not 100% confident, but we’ve eliminated every other reasonable option pretty soundly — you’d be the only known one in North America and one of a half dozen worldwide. There are a pair of twin girls in Brazil, a couple in northern France, and a crotchety old man who moves around southeast Asia. I think he’s spent the last decade in Kuala Lumpur. That’s it. Those are all of the publically known dragons. It's theoretically possible that another is hiding, given that you exist, but the likelihood is quite low.

“ As for the second reason, I don’t want to confirm your nature until we’re well away from any population center. You’ve got more in your tank than anyone I've ever met. You awakened yesterday and don’t have the first iota of what you’re doing, so I can't trust you to demonstrate safely. Your spark is dormant right now after arguing with you over my questions earlier, you emptied your mana reserves enchanting Beth somehow, and you’re wearing a suppression enchantment. Yet you are still lighting up the entire spectrum like a college of mages in a distributed spellwork. This also makes me think you’re a dragon. While, in theory, with an infinite number of mythics, there could be a wererat or dryad with that much juice to push with, you usually fall in the general range of your type, and dragons are up near the top. Just like the human body can't run a three-minute mile, it also can't support the amount of energy you are for any length of time.

“Mighty beings, and those who cause specific security concerns, must meet and swear fealty to the Seat. Because of your potential, I have to bring you there. I'm not going to lie to you; I'm escorting you there because you're dangerous. If you don't act out on that power, you'll simply be integrated into our society and treated royally.

"It’s a gilded cage sort of scenario — you might have the power alone to disrupt every magical mechanism you wished to, so you become an integral part of the system. They’re situationally obliged to make your life pleasant to placate and disincentivize you from taking power yourself. If you become a necessary part of their structure, toppling it would mean harming yourself.

“So, we’re going to Philadelphia to meet with the Seat because of you. You need protection and training, and they’re the only ones with the command to do it.”

That was quite unnerving. I didn’t want to meet people and be paraded around like a spectacle or held in a black-site lab, never to see the sun again. It sounded like that’s what I was heading for.

“Why did Beth need to come?”

“Somehow, without knowing anything about what you were doing, you’ve layered enchantments on her. I don’t know what your dragon interpreted your intentions as or how it possibly did that. Enchanting typically requires decades of routine practice, and it can be difficult for expert enchanters to tie magic to a living thing. She has so much intertwined with her that I can’t sense her anymore. I don’t think you should be separated, and the Seat will know how to proceed.”

At the mention of being separated, Beth tightened her grasp around me, her scared green eyes looking up desperately at me.

“Beth, what were you doing in your life before yesterday?”

She answered quietly, as if the answer was only for me, “I was working at the grocers on Winton, but they would only let me do part-time. Wasn’t really enough to get by on my own. I had tried to get classes at the local community college before this semester started, but when I talked to someone there, they asked for an address to put in my file, and I sort of freaked out on them and ran out. I was couch surfing and barely making it like that, so I kinda gave up on that idea. I had been staying with Paul — the guy you fought — for like three months now. Started off fine enough, but I kept getting roped into his plans. He never had a real job either, just running games around borrowing money from one person to pay another back.

"He gave me a check for like fourteen thousand dollars two weeks ago; wanted me to deposit it in a specific account. He asked me to do it because there's a Western Union at the grocery, so I could do it after my shift on my way home. I didn’t ask anything about it — I didn’t want to know. Then he sent me back each day afterwards with small money order receipts to cash. Then those guys showed up asking for money. I had given it back to him every time I got back from work. I knew it was something wrong, but he would get so upset if I ever questioned it, and I didn't have any other place to go.” She watched my face desperately the entire time she answered, her viridian eyes searching for something from me. I didn’t know how to react as I realized it was possibly the longest I had heard her speak since we met. One thought crossed my mind.

“Should you call your manager to let them know you won’t be there?”

“I guess; He was kind of a dick, though.”

“Don’t really want him reporting you missing, do we? I should probably send some texts, too. Cynthia, how long will we be in Philadelphia for?”

Cynthia gave a forced laugh that highlighted her discomfort at the question. She responded with some trepidation, “It’s not up to me, but I wouldn’t plan on returning to the life you knew.”

“Oh,” was all I had available to respond with. I guess that made some sense; if I was being escorted to the regional political leader irrespective of my own will, it would be unlikely that they would just let me wander back to school next week. It wasn’t every day you found out you were a power player in a world you had only just learned of. Still, I was left concerned with something, so I asked, “Was the plan to have us give a nice Irish exit to our previous lives? Disappear, and everyone just forgets we existed? What would our parents think? I guess the roommate in my brain was right, and that question wasn’t hypothetical at all.”

Cynthia looked visibly remorseful. “I’m sorry. I know it’s awful to do, but if I let you know everything up front, you’ll be inclined to make decisions that will just hurt them in the long run. There are specialists who have the task of cleaning up loose ends. With every situation being unique, they are exceptionally skilled and delicate. This is normally easier when you’re overwhelmed with the existence of magic and the trip you’re taking is a fifteen-minute cross-town excursion.” She tried to smile at me through the mirror. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not easy. If you want to send some messages saying something came up and you had to go away for some reason, I’m not going to stop you. I'll ask that you be vague and not make it sound like you plan to return anytime soon.”

Her near-routine delivery of the response didn't take away from her sincerity. It was clear that it was something she had practiced specifically because she found it objectionable. I also understood why Sam had called her mother to handle this. Beyond elevating my case up the food chain, there was no way she would have been able to tell me I needed to leave everyone behind. Even now, her face was buried down, unwilling to chance meeting my eye in the mirror.

Beth seemed indifferent to the idea of last contact and put her phone away. I supposed you didn’t end up in her position if you had people that genuinely cared about you and your wellbeing. I sent a couple of messages, one to my parents, one to my landlord, a generic email to my professors, and one final too-short text to Kyle. With that, I put my phone away and realized I had just cut ties with my life as I had known it. Except, I hadn’t entirely, because Sam and Cynthia were still a thread I could cling to. Beth had done precisely that yet somehow seemed less bothered than I was.

Half an hour passed in silence, only the sound of the car distracting me from my thoughts. At one point, Cynthia and Sam whispered to each other, but it was clearly not intended for Beth and me, and I watched the fields roll by out the window without listening. I was being dragged to a city I had never been to, to meet someone who would decide my future, with no chance of refusing. Cynthia's sympathy didn't soften the blow as much as it felt like it should've.

The silence was broken in a very strange way. For the first time since we left the diner, Sam turned around and asked me, “Can you just hold these for me?” She held out three small gems, perhaps the size of a fingernail apiece, each rough and unpolished. Two were colorless, while the third was green, but they were all fuzzy and faded. Looking at them reminded me of smoked glass — a hazy translucent transference of light. I didn’t see any obvious issues with it, but as I started to reach out to take them, Cynthia admonished her daughter.

“Samantha O’Brien! You will not take advantage of your friends like that. Tell him what you are asking him to do.”

Sam’s face lit up with a flash of anger, and I could tell she almost called out her mother's hypocrisy before her eyes fell down to the floor, mortified at the outburst she only barely contained. She stumbled over her words when she addressed me, “Sorry, J. I just kinda figured since you’re leaking power everywhere, maybe you could charge these for me.”

“That seems reasonable to me. Is there anything I have to do?”

“Just hold them for a bit. Keep them on your person and in your mind. I’ll get them back from you eventually.” I took the jewels from her hands and rolled them over in my fingers.

Cynthia seemed just as let down by her daughter’s explanation as by my quick acceptance. “Samantha, you need to tell him the rest. How much would you have paid to have one of those charged? James, you need to know the value of your work. Even if it’s easy for you, you need to get some kind of payment out of it, or you’ll be inundated with so many insignificant requests that combined, you’d have a Sisyphean backlog of meaningless work.”

Sam cautiously offered, “Well, if I was just paying, maybe a hundred fifty each?”

Cynthia pondered for a moment before nodding. “That seems reasonable. James, most things in our world aren’t paid for like that. There’s a lot of bartering, trading favors, or if you have to buy something, you’ll use some kind of bulk goods instead of currency.”

“That seems inconvenient. Why not just continue using currency?”

“We have rules against manipulating markets that have norm interests. Shifting massive amounts of money around in trading deals — or just removing the amounts we would need from norm circulation — would have consequences the Seats wouldn’t be happy with. Favors ensure everything is contained in our world. Materials disappearing can be explained as being consumed in some failed production process or lost at sea or any of a thousand mundane means.”

“I guess that makes some sense.”

Cynthia accepted my remark and continued by addressing her daughter, “So Sam, how do you intend to pay your friend here?”

Before Sam could respond, I did. “Actually, I have a proposition. She was right; if this is working and I’m charging them, it must be with an energy I’m just releasing anyways because I don’t feel any different. I might need some money if I’m leaving my past life behind, but what I truly need is a friend who understands both worlds. I don’t know anything about the world you’re dragging me into, no offense, and I think Sam will have earned her charged gemstones many times before the week is out, helping me maneuver through this transition.”

Cynthia smiled at my response, “Perhaps you’ll negotiate just fine.”

“No real choice but to figure it out as it goes. You don’t happen to have a ‘Magic Society Introduction for Dummies’ hanging around, do you?” Beth snorted at my light-hearted comment. It felt right to hear that from her; perhaps she was finally allowing herself to relax. I noticed myself appreciating the sound — and wondering why I felt that way. I had just met her, so why was it meaningful to me that she was comfortable here?

Pushing those thoughts aside, I looked at the gemstones I was rolling between my fingers. I could see my fingers more clearly through them now than just a few moments ago. Even as I held them and looked at them now, I thought I could see some of the luster returning. It appeared to function as a battery-level display feature for magic instead of electricity.

“So Cynthia, I do have a pretty big question. How am I a dragon if my parents clearly aren’t?”

“I don’t know. That is usually how it works, passed down from your parents. Maybe they are dragons, but something stopped their merging, and they rejected it and grew apart from it. That usually leads to death or some other pretty severe issues, though. I met your mother through the PTA a few times, lovely woman, but absolutely no spark there at all, so I don’t think that is the case anyways, but it's not like I ever noticed yours. There are other options, but they aren’t understood, mostly because of how uncommon they are. Sometimes a gift will skip several generations before reappearing. Sometimes humans from otherwise mundane families give birth to a child with a spark. I don’t want to blindly guess how you came to be — human records of dragons are incomplete and unreliable at best, and the Seats aren’t sharing what they know because of how powerful and unique you are. We can’t run tests on your offspring anyway — I think you’d be the first one born since the 1600s.”

“I was a little worried I’d be turned into a science project and tucked away in a lab somewhere. You don’t think that’s what awaits us in Philly, is it?”

Cynthia made a face that suggested she wasn’t confident in her answer, “I don’t think so — more likely you’ll be put on display and shown off. You could be completely hidden away from the public eye if they think that’s for the best. Frankly, I’m unsure what awaits us besides meetings, paperwork, and court drama over how to get you to fall in line.”

“Cool, just a social pariah and public spectacle then. I guess I’ll learn to deal with it.” That did make me think, though. Everyone in the diner had openly gawked at Beth and me, but Sam and Cynthia remained stoic. I guess I used to know Sam reasonably well and had met Cynthia a few times, but they also knew way more than the spectators we had.

“Why aren’t you and Sam starstruck like everyone else at the diner? They didn’t even know half the truth and still couldn’t help themselves.”

“A couple of reasons. The main one is training. My job is to bring newly awakened individuals to where they need to be and help ease their transition. Think of it like being a maitre d’ at a starred restaurant in Manhattan. In the public eye, you’re forgettable and invisible, but you still interact with and assist particularly high-profile individuals daily. Another reason is that, at the end of the day, I’m still just a silly suburban human girl. I’m always freaking out over whomever I just met. I contain it and fall into my trained behaviors. Everyone in this world is a wild, amazing, wonderful thing to me, but to some of the characters in that diner, you were the first thing in decades they saw that made them feel fear. To a human, a baseball and the moon are completely different. If they landed on an ant, how would it know the difference?”

“I think I get it. Meeting the mayor and the president are orders of magnitude different, but to a child, they’re just someone your parents think is important wearing suits. On the scale of things, you’re closer to the child. Sam, when will I know if these are done? They’ve stopped changing.” I held up one of the gems I had been holding to our eye level. It was flawlessly transparent now, and the edges were perfectly smoothed, almost like it had been manufactured for jewelry.

Sam turned back to look at what I had said, and her eyes went wide as she focused on what I held, her entire being trying to find an answer to the question I had asked. Instead, she just let out an incredulous, “What the fuuuuuuuuuuck?”

Cynthia started using her motherly prerogative again, saying, “Sam, you will need to watch your mouth when —” In the mirror, she glanced at what I was holding, which interrupted her. After swallowing firmly, she continued, “Oh. Understandable.”

Sam slowly reached out and took the gem from my hand timidly, bordering on being fearful of it. She turned around to sit forwards in her seat while she inspected what I had returned to her. She turned to her mother and said, “Holy shit. It wasn’t even this clear when it was first made. It takes Amghar a week to get them back to me when his schedule’s clear. J just did better in fifteen minutes.” She gave an exasperated laugh, then picked up Cynthia's purse and said, “You might as well give him yours, too.”

Cynthia looked at Sam for a moment with her face scrunched up into a frown before giving a slight nod and returning her eyes to the road. Sam pulled out a few gems of similar size and then two that were larger. One was about half again the size of the others, but the second larger one was nearing the size of a baseball. It was probably worth as much as the car we were riding in. I felt uncomfortable handling it, but I was doing a service for her, so I took the stones from Sam.

“How’s the same deal sound, Cynthia? You’re already shepherding us around like little lost lambs, and we would surely be lost on our own.”

“I would be happy to accept, but it would be dishonest. I’m already being compensated for doing that.”

“You might be paid for your time and mileage, but I doubt you’re paid to answer all of my questions, explain the nuances, and be sympathetic and friendly to us. Besides, the cynical view of this is that if I’m paying you, it ensures you consider my interests moving forward, not just those of your employer.”

She started to respond but then closed her mouth and nodded. I held the gems and watched them as they changed forms in my hand. The largest ones seemed resistant to my efforts, and intermittently, they appeared to be regressing despite my attention.

“What precisely are these? Why do you two need them? If I’m a dragon, then what are you?”

Cynthia pondered the questions I posed for a moment before answering, “We are humans with some magical prowess. Wizard or Witch or Warlock or Sorcerer or however you want to call yourself — people tend to care about their individual titles, but there are no hard rules about why one person is called one thing versus another. The gemstones are capacitors for magical energy. They hold energy when we want them to, and then we can use them to cast things we might not have enough juice to do ourselves. Spending all of your personal power can be incredibly draining; having a second source to use is nice.”

Even though Cynthia had answered what I asked, she continued, “Different creatures are good at different things. Power tends to be inversely related to control. Humans typically make the best healers because we can wield our tiny amount of energy with surgical precision. Focusing on minutia is challenging if you can bend time and space to your will. Our world divides magical beings into four classes. Most awakened humans fall into what we would call ‘Class D.’ Most magical beings do, actually, maybe three-quarters of the realms. Those in D are aware of magic and can do things to improve their quality of life, but they aren't changing the world. Class C is a step up — most of the famous people you’ve heard of from history were probably a mage of class C. Napoleon, Julius Caesar, Churchill, and so on. Incredible amounts of power for a human. Perhaps another two-tenths of the realms fall here.

“After that, we have B. B is beyond human. Older vampires, banshees at the head of their clan, senior elves, alpha-positioned werecreatures, dragons. These are at the top of the food chain, as it were. Some of the younger Seats fall here. I hope you fall here because you certainly aren’t lower.

“Finally, we have class A. These are godlike entities with the power to bend the universe’s rules to their will. Powers of Class B are at the top of the food chain because these things exist outside the food chain. Humans revere these beings as gods. Only a handful of beings are in this category — think leaders of G5 countries compared to the average person.

“Sam is D, and she’s terribly embarrassed about it. She’s a human and young, which probably explains why she’s so bothered by it. I’m somewhere near the top of D. My ids say C, but I work for the agencies who publish the ranking. Beth might end up with an id saying C as well — you’ve layered a ton on her, and at this point, it might as well be her. It can be hard to predict how the adjudicators will rule on this, but since anyone she interacts with will notice the magnitude of the enchanting imbuing her, I would predict they offer a class ranking aligned with the expectations first impressions will give.”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

As Cynthia talked about the state of this world I was only just learning about, I simply tried to listen and absorb the information. I wasn’t sure how much of this I would actually digest — I felt like I was reading the manual for a car I would buy next year. Until I was immersed in this world she was describing, I wouldn’t understand it.

So, I watched Beth instead. She had taken the middle seat and practically draped over me the entire ride so far. It reminded me of a girl I had ‘dated’ in middle school — obsessed with constantly being in physical contact. I noticed that I didn’t find it strange, even though the logical part of my brain was screaming that I should be unnerved by her rapid attachment. She was acting like a puppy whose owner had just come home from a day of work. It felt correct to have her with me like this.

When Cynthia wrapped up her explanation of magical beings’ power rankings, I asked Beth a question. “Why aren’t you freaking out about this? You just walked out of your old life to get into a car with three people you’ve never met, who claimed they were two witches and a dragon and that one of them cast a bunch of spells on you.”

She shrugged without releasing her hug on me, “Dunno. Not like I had anything to leave behind anyway. You feel safe to me. Maybe the magic is real, and you did something to make me feel this way.”

That thought physically hurt me. I hadn’t considered that possibility; I was too wrapped up in the whirlwind of information I was receiving and had simply assumed that Beth had a reason for feeling this way that was outside of me. Had I changed her mind to make her want to remain with me? Had I fundamentally modified her? I was repulsed by myself as I thought through the past day and realized that potential explanation made a lot of sense. The ‘absolute power corrupts absolutely’ thought sprung to my mind, as tired and trite as the saying was. I tried to remind myself that I hadn’t had any idea what I was doing and that my intentions were noble, but I took no solace in it.

Beth held me even tighter, saying, “I can feel your heart racing now. It’s okay.”

I didn’t say anything. She seemed alright with it, but how could I trust her opinion? How could I know that I hadn’t changed her to believe it was okay when two days ago, she might’ve been mortified to see where she was now? I took a deep breath and tried to recenter myself. I was wavering exceedingly close to a ‘What is true, actually?’ existential conundrum. She said it was okay, and she was acting like it was okay — until I received evidence otherwise, I needed to trust her. I would be freaking out enough being a mythical beast and finding out about a new hidden world; I certainly didn’t need to be caught up in my head about how I might’ve unintentionally harmed a girl I didn’t know.

The car smelled of fear and guilt, primarily originating from me. Some of both were coming off of Sam. Interestingly, I hadn’t once smelled anything that originated from Cynthia. I took a deep breath to both search for it and calm myself. A hint of anxiety came from Beth, but it was incredibly faint. My fear was fading, but it would linger in the enclosed car. Still nothing from Cynthia.

We sat in silence for a long time. I was sure I had more questions for Cynthia, but I didn’t have a solid grasp on them yet. I needed more information to ask questions to get more information, and on goes the cycle, but I hadn’t yet digested what I had already been told. I also wanted to talk to Beth about her life and why she was so willing to go along with us, perhaps only to calm the storm of anxiety running through my mind. Still, I didn’t feel it would be fitting to force her into baring her soul in front of all three of us if she didn’t offer to do so. So we sat silently and allowed the car to bring us closer to our destination. When we crossed into Pennsylvania, I passed back Cynthia’s small gemstones to Sam, who looked at me again like I had two heads but didn’t break the silence that had descended over the car. The larger ones were increasingly resistant to recharging, which made me wonder if Cynthia was using them while I was filling them.

I was drawn out of the clouds in my mind when Cynthia exited the highway to nowhere in particular, eventually locating a fast-food restaurant parking lot next to a gas station. There was little else around. A small rest area in the middle of nowhere, offering cheap, greasy food and a chance to refuel at extortionate prices. Cynthia parked the car.

“Why are we stopping?” I asked.

“I want to check something before we get back into civilization. Something with you. Also, Sam’s been fidgeting for the last 15 miles like she has to pee.”

I looked around where we were. There was a car at one of the gas station pumps and another parked around the side of the building. Two vehicles were parked at the burger place we had pulled into. Otherwise, I saw no evidence of life. It may have been the middle of the day, but we were in a place I didn’t know.

Sam opened her door and almost skipped to the restaurant entrance. I unbuckled my seat belt as Cynthia undid hers, and the three of us got out of the car. Cynthia came around the trunk to where we were standing and tried to look into my eyes.

She spoke softly, “I want to get a glimpse of you out here, largely away from any population center. I’m going to ask you to take the ring off and try to rouse the presence you interacted with earlier. And then I’d like to get you to draw him out completely and expose himself to me.” She said the final word with noticeable emphasis.

“Why do we need to do this here?”

“It could go wrong. But mostly because you would be infuriatingly conspicuous if we did it nearby other magic-sensitive beings. It would cause a huge stir and maybe a public panic — everyone would know something new and imposing was suddenly there and making itself known. It would be better to do it here first so I can call ahead and inform them how to be ready.”

I nodded. It made enough sense. If I was some kind of VIP/national threat now, they would need to know exactly what to do when I arrived. I guess I’d give it a go. I slipped the ring off my finger and handed it to Cynthia. She accepted it from me before taking a step back. I saw her hold a crystal in her other hand, and she muttered something quietly. When I looked at her, she was fuzzy around the edges, like I had something in my eye or was looking at her through a smudged pane of glass.

She smiled and said, “Just a precaution. I don’t think I need it with you after earlier. Can’t be too safe, though.”

I nodded again. Beth was still holding onto my arm, and she smiled at me when I looked at her. Guess I would give this a go. I closed my eyes and called out into my mind.

“Hello? Are you out there?”

“I AM.”

“Can you come back to me? They asked me to bring you out. I know we had some disagreements earlier, but this is for them to know how to treat us.”

I felt the presence return to me entirely, and I felt complete. It felt like returning from major surgery and having the anesthesia fade away, but it happened instantly instead of happening over a few days. Everything was sharp and clear to me. I could smell individual patties on the grill in the restaurant and a patch where gasoline had been spilled by the car that had topped up. I could hear a bird calling from the other side of the highway. I knew it was a morning dove and that it was calling to its mate. I could smell the deodorant that Sam had used this morning from where she had brushed against the seatbelt.

“I AM HERE.”

“I can feel that. That’s amazing.”

“WHAT DO WE NEED TO DO?”

“Cynthia asked me to get you to expose yourself. I guess just show off for a moment if you can do that relatively inconspicuously. Perhaps keep it to just energy instead of visual or auditory? I don’t exactly know what they want. Can you try not to hurt anyone or break anything?”

I could feel the emotion coming off of it — confidence and self-assurance. It wasn’t quite smug or arrogant, but the being understood the request and knew it could do what I wanted.

“YOU USE TOO MANY WORDS.”

Then it did it. I could feel it. I could feel everything.

A car 30 miles up the road had a loose lug nut rattling about. It wouldn’t cause problems soon, but it was slowly loosening over time. The fitting wasn’t threaded perfectly. The dove was calling for its mate earlier because it was his turn to feed their hatchlings. I knew it was their last brood of the season. They were proud. I was proud. I counted the number of gasoline particles in the patch I had sensed earlier. I could taste the burgers. Four patties were being cooked, and four were already finished and were just being kept warm.

I could practically taste the emotions coming off of Sam and Beth. Beth was content and comfortable, relieved that someone would finally care for her. Sam, on the other hand, was overflowing with something new. I could identify a hint of guilt and shame, but they were widely overwhelmed by something else. The fresh scent was intoxicating and wonderful. The beast in my mind told me that it was lust. I was still unable to glean anything from Cynthia.

And then it was over. It had felt like it had taken a lifetime for me. The sunlight that I could feel on my skin now felt dull. I opened my eyes, and the colors seemed faded and desaturated.

“I AM DONE NOW. REST. ASK IF YOU NEED ME.”

With that, it slipped to the back of my mind. I felt comforted that I could ask it to return if needed. He left me with the knowledge that disagreements between us would be expected for a while — but we were still the same being in the end. What was good for him would be good for me. His instincts earlier weren’t wrong, but they were objective and cold — it was my job to imbue him with humanity.

I looked at Cynthia, and she looked nervous. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. A moment passed, and she closed her mouth and wrung her hands together.

“So Cynthia, do you have your answers now, or should we do more? He seemed kinda worn out after that.”

She ignored my question to pose her own, “You are doubtless that you only initially interacted with this voice of yours this morning and not before?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I need to make a phone call. Sorry, I’ll be right back. Put this back on, please.”

Cynthia handed me the ring back and then marched away from the car with her phone held to her ear without giving me any answers. Beth was still holding onto my arm, completely unphased by what I had done and how Cynthia had responded to it. I slipped the ring back onto my finger as I began to talk to the girl clinging to me.

“Did you feel anything when I did that? How long did it take? I think my perceptions were distorted.”

“I felt a little. It only took a second or five. The sun felt warmer on my skin while your eyes were closed.” She paused momentarily, lowering her eyes and blushing as she continued, “I felt loved. It felt like the whole world was hugging me. Was that you?” She returned her gaze to me, and I lost myself in her emerald eyes.

“I think it was. I’m not sure. I’m kind of having an identity crisis about where ‘me’ ends and where the other things begin. Or if we’re even different. Are Jekyll and Hyde different people?”

I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know what I was doing and hadn’t tried to comfort her, but I also wasn’t really in control.

Sam returned to the two of us. She looked like she had just worked out or gone for a jog. She was perspiring lightly, her pupils were dilated more than they should be for the bright day, she was breathing harder than her walk across the pavement required, and her face and neck were flushed. She bit her lip as she approached us.

“So, Mom made you demonstrate, huh?”

“Yeah, and then she ran off to make a call.”

“Sounds about right. It felt for a moment there like the world was ending. I’m glad I was already in the bathroom.” She actually shivered while she spoke, perhaps reliving the experience. When she opened her eyes, she looked at me with what I saw as hunger, and the lust poured off her again. It was almost intimidating.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to catch you off guard. Thought your mother would’ve warned you.”

She licked her lips before responding, “No, it was fine. I didn’t mind at all.”

The 'world was ending,' but she didn’t mind at all. I could only conceive one way in which that made any sense, but I wasn’t going to pursue it. She had made her feelings about me pretty clear in the past. Thankfully, she didn’t allow me to continue what would inevitably become an awkward conversation, walking around Beth and me and joining her mother a dozen yards away.

I opened the door back to the car and sat down inside it. Rather than go around to the other side to get in beside me, Beth followed me and then straddled me, sitting on my lap facing me. She was so petite that it shouldn’t have been uncomfortable, but her bony knees and hips dug into me. I could feel her trepidation and unease, so I didn’t say anything about how she was sitting. I left the door open, glad to vent the car out. The fresh air didn’t seem to diffuse the emotions I had filled the car with, but being able to access the outside easily diluted the smells in my mind.

Beth stared into my eyes, and it felt like she was looking into my very being. “I think magic is real. I mean, I guess like I didn’t think they were lying to you. But it was too crazy to be real. But it just clicked when she asked you to do whatever you just did. I felt it. You reached out and touched me. It was amazing. God, it felt like I was a little girl again, and my granny was holding me as I fell asleep. I just felt good. All the other bullshit was gone for a minute; it was just you holding me.”

She pressed her face into my shoulder, and her voice came out raw and edgy. “I know we really only just met, but please don’t go away. I don’t want to be alone again.”

I held her against me and ran my hand up and down her back. “I can’t promise that. I don’t know what world we’re walking into.” Even before I spoke, I knew my words wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear. The sadness, the sense of abandonment, and the feeling of betrayal that flowed off of her felt like a knife to my gut. Her resolve broke, and her tears came freely.

I continued, “Shhhh. I’m not saying I’m trying to get rid of you. I just can’t promise something when I have no idea if I can keep it. That wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

“You’re going to let me stay?”

I withheld a giggle, “I’m not exactly in control of that. Apparently, I’ve been relieved of my apartment, and we’re being dragged to Philadelphia.”

She sighed and pressed her head into my neck as she finally got her breathing under control. “I’m sorry; I know it’s crazy. Being here in your arms feels more right than anything has in a long time. I’m scared I’m going to wake up tomorrow, and it will all have been a dream, and I’ll be in Paul’s shitty one-room apartment still dealing with his bullshit.”

“You know, I was kind of hoping that I would wake up back in my apartment and you and I could calmly talk about last night over some coffee. I don’t think my dreams usually include an hour of silence on a car trip, though, so I think we’re stuck here.”

Beth let out an adorable squeak and sank deeper into me as she relaxed. I kept rubbing her back, and we simply sat. The heartbreak she had felt earlier was gone, and the soft breeze carried it away. Ten minutes passed before Cynthia and Sam returned to the car, and when they did, I could feel Beth had fallen asleep. They got into the car, and I finally shut the door.

Cynthia spoke first as she started to drive, “I think it would be best if you left the voice alone for the foreseeable future. Until we can get you a teacher.”

“Sounds good to me — He asked to be left alone to rest, anyways. Anything you want to tell me about your call?”

“I moved you up the queue. They assigned me as your permanent handler rather than a temporary transporter and gave me a business account to use for any expenses.”

“What kind of new expenses would there be if you were already compensated for bringing me there?”

“This account is for your expenses, not mine. You’ll be requested to stay in the area longer than I had anticipated. As in, permanently. Will probably need to acquire some things for the day-to-day.”

“And you and Sam? And Beth?” She exhaled and squeezed me for a moment when I asked about her.

“Anything I need will be expensed. Sam had been trialing in a local position like this, so she’ll stay with you for quasi-work experience. There won’t be a more interesting awakening in our lifetimes, so I probably couldn’t order her to leave even if she didn’t want to—”

Sam coughed and interrupted Cynthia.

Cynthia restarted, “So Sam and I will be covered. The account should cover what you and Beth need for the time being. It’s hard for me to tell you more confidently before we arrive and the decisions are made.”

“Alright. So, we’re going to meet the Seat in person, right? And they’re the equivalent of the president politically within this world? Who are they, and what do I need to know before meeting them?”

“Yes, we’re going to meet the Seat for the Atlantic American region. She’s the ultimate authority for this entire part of the country, and you’ve been fast-tracked to her. She’s the one who will ultimately decide how your introduction to our world will go.”

I nodded, and Cynthia continued speaking.

“The Atlantic American Seat is a banshee queen who uses the name Aisling. She is considered fair and consistent among the Seats but not particularly hospitable. She’s politically skilled — less favorable subjects might suggest scheming or manipulative — and this has helped her hold this Seat for about 200 years now. I would say to be honest with her because you have enough power for her to be wary and keep you out of many games.

“Her court consists of advisors from different races who represent the interests from around the realm and ambassadors from other regions. A couple of humans provide input, but most of the members are mythical beings. You’ll probably be required to attend several times for the advisors to get a feel for you. They will want to control you and use you as a tool. Many of the things they’ll ask for will be things you’ll want to do anyway. Remember to get your dues, especially from them.

“Aisling prefers to be addressed as ‘Your Highness,’ like a queen because, after all, she is one. She was a queen before she was a Seat. When we meet her, try to hold your own. Don’t be an ass, but don’t give in and submit to everything she says. If you show any bit of spine to her at the start, she will respect you more. There are humans she will listen to over some court members because they can talk to her without capitulating.”

“Are you one of those?”

I could see Cynthia blush in the mirror. She replied, “Ah, no. I’ve only met her once before, and it wasn’t a personal meeting like yours will be. I think I only greeted her when my name was called and remained silent for the rest of the meeting before returning home to shower the fear and anxiety away. Do you know what banshees are?”

“Female ghosts?”

“That’s certainly not incorrect, but it’s not the whole story. They’re a Gaelic mythic that connect to a single family and carry souls of the departed from that family to the other side. So, as a human, the only time I should be interacting with one is if I’m dead and they’re there to help me leave this plane. It’s not something I could get past instinctually. She wasn’t even trying to pressure us, and I was scared stiff.”

“So, your advice about standing up to her and holding my own — will I even be able to?”

“You might be able to. If you ask your voice to help, you should do it. He’s not human, but he is you. He won’t have that instinctual fear gripping him like a mortal.”

Surprisingly, during our entire conversation, Beth remained deeply asleep in my lap. I didn’t have any more questions for the time being, so I let my mind wander to the nature of my relationship with Beth as I watched the highway mile markers slip past. The dragon soul in my mind assured me she was one of our mates. She needed his protection and my affection, but she would be an excellent fit for us once she was comfortable. He thought I was already doing a great job in familiarizing ourselves with her.

I wasn’t comfortable with that line of thinking. It felt like he wanted me to manipulate her or that he already had. The possessiveness he exuded was disgusting to me. She was an individual — she could make her own decisions, and we didn’t need to interfere. He disagreed — She was in our care now and had already told us she preferred it. She had pointed out that she wasn’t proficient at caring for herself in the past. We would do better, and she would love us for it.

I felt myself fading off to sleep to the rhythm of the car. The distaste I had in my mouth from the discussion with myself lingered. My last thoughts were of how it would be impossible to care for Beth as it was currently — even if I wanted to go along with those plans, I didn’t even know where I was sleeping that night. How could I care for others in my current situation? My thoughts blurred together, and I joined the girl I held in dreamland.

----------------------------------------

I awoke to the car stuck in traffic in a city I didn’t recognize. Beth was still asleep in my arms, her own wrapped around my neck. Cynthia spoke softly as the cobwebs of sleep faded from my mind, and I looked at my surroundings.

“We’re stopping at a hotel a few miles from here if we can ever get there. You need to shower and dress for the meeting. The rest of us, too, I guess.”

“You’ll be there? That’s comforting.” I had been a bit concerned that I would have to talk to the woman who would be deciding my future alone.

“I don’t think we’ll be much assistance. Even if we can overcome the Lady’s presence, you will be the center of attention. The two of you.”

“Your attendance will be comfort enough for me. I won’t be completely thrown to the wolves and misled if someone with more knowledge can warn me when it’s happening. Where do we get clothes for me to wear? It’s not like I brought anything with me.”

“There will be clothes in the room that’s provided.”

“Is this a magic hotel?”

“No, it’s a completely mundane hotel owned by the organization of the Seat. Think Air Force One — it’s not owned by the individual that is the president but rather the position maintains it. It’s a completely standard hotel, though.”

The car was maneuvered into an underground parking garage, so I lightly shook Beth. Her eyes shot open frantically, and the automatic fear there made my heart ache. It rapidly faded when she realized she was still hanging onto me in the car. I explained where we were and why, and she relaxed and pressed her head back against my chest but never released her grip on me.

We left the car, and Beth held onto my hand. A man wearing a suit and nametag greeted us and shepherded us into the building and through the lobby to a bank of elevators.

Shortly, Beth and I were alone in a room. There were clothes on the bed for both of us, alongside a toiletries kit. A pair of awkward showers later, Beth and I were dressing in clothes that weren’t ours for what would almost certainly be the most important meeting of our lives.

“James? Can you help with this?” Beth asked timidly. She had the zip to her dress three-quarters of the way up. She turned away from me, and I stepped behind her and grasped the zipper. When it was done, she turned around and stepped into me, placing her arms around my neck and piercing me with her eyes. The perfume she was wearing was enticing, but the hint of lust coming off of her was incredible.

“I haven’t ever worn anything this nice before,” she whispered. She pressed on the back of my head with her arms, standing up on the balls of her feet. Her bony wrists were cold on my neck. Her face was millimeters from mine, and I could feel the shallow breaths she took on my skin as our noses brushed together. We held there for what felt like an hour but could’ve only been a moment.

A knock on the door shook Beth to the safety of arm’s length. Cynthia’s voice came muffled through, “James? Beth? Are you ready?”

Rather than shouting back, I opened the door. Cynthia and Sam were waiting on the other side for me, both in their own formal wear, and I held the door open while they came into the room.

“Well, you sure clean up all right.” Cynthia stepped past me and saw Beth frozen in place. “Oh Beth, darling, you’re absolutely stunning.” Cynthia went over and hugged the younger woman, which relaxed her. The spike of anxiety she had from the door knock faded to a more moderate level. Beth had cleaned up well, but all the expensive clothes in the world only made her seem out of place. She appeared as uncomfortable in this situation as I was, unfit for the high society we were being shepherded through.

Sam, Beth, and I followed Cynthia back down through the hotel. She had put on her metaphorical professional hat and explained all sorts of protocols and procedures we might need to know for our meeting. Apparently we were having a dinner meeting, because many instructions had to do with which fork was used for each course, how to address servers, and so on. She also firmly reminded us that we were going to a dinner with the highest magical power in the region and that we would potentially be seeing wild things that no warning would prepare us for. She continued her spiel as we made our way back to the car. Beth sat on the seat but was still clinging to me.

I tried to absorb as much of what she was saying. I felt as though I was Jack on the Titanic, being given the crash course of high society a few hours before I had to join it. He was doing it for love; I just hoped my next week went better than his did.

Between my thoughts and the overwhelming instructions Cynthia was flooding us with, I hadn’t noticed where we were going. I found myself in front of a nondescript stone building, with Cynthia encouraging me to hurry up the steps and inside. It was official and imposing without being particularly conspicuous.

The hotel we had been in was formal and upscale, but as it was a hotel, much of that was a facade to give off the appearance of class without incurring the costs for the owners. The building I was now in was authentic. The four of us were led by a frail-looking elderly man wearing an impeccable suit through a maze of hallways and back chambers to a dining room.

The table in the center of the room was smaller than I expected. I don’t know what I was expecting — but this room felt relaxed and unimposing, perhaps intimate. The table was oval-shaped and had eight seats surrounding it. Six of them were set for dinner in two groups – a bunch of four, a space, a pairing, and another space. The four of us took the intended seats.

The man leading us to the room informed us that “The Lady Aisling, Her Royal Highness,” had been occupied by her work and would be along shortly. As he departed, a much younger man in a white uniform brought a cart and served a large plate of food to the center of the table. He then bowed and left the room without a word.

Sitting on my left, Beth leaned over and whispered, “I think this meal would’ve cost more than everything I owned.” I looked at what was placed in the center of the table. A smoked fish — salmon? — several types of cheese, a collection of small sausages, and mushrooms. This was an appetizer serving the dual purpose of providing a starting point for the meal and stalling for time before the host arrived.

The four of us ate lightly from the dish. We had very little conversation, uncomfortable with the setting and unsure of ourselves. The young man in the white outfit returned, removed the platter from the table, and provided each of us with a small salad with some kind of thick, brown dressing. When it reached my nose, I recognized the ginger. It wasn’t something I had tried before in this style.

The young man departed, and the elderly man returned. He cleared his throat and spoke in a much firmer and more authoritative voice than I had expected him to be capable of.

“It is my honor to introduce the Eighth Seat, Her Royal Highness, the Queen Aisling; Long may She reign.”